by Bo Kibiwot on Monday, 25 January 2010 at 19:41 ·


It’s a Friday night, the streets are crowded
I’m in my dirty jeans and a t-shirt with no sleeves
I’m walking along the streets
Here comes a lady I think I’ve seen before
Her picture in my mind but it’s not clear anymore
She stops to say; “hi?” she has a voice so familiar
I look into her eyes; so beautiful, so peculiar
She must have been part of my life
Before I got amnesia,
We must have been so damn close
But I can’t fit her to the puzzle.
Hold me close, I want to remember you
Who are you? Are you my child or my wife?
Take my hand, remind me whom I am.
Heal my wounds, remind me of my life.

Tears stream down her face, she is disappointed
It’s not my wish to make her cry, I feel embarrassed
She tries to speak to me but no words escape her mouth
Her lips move up and down, I’m listening but there’s no sound
She puts her hands behind my neck, pulls me close to her
Her head on my chest, feels I was used to her perfume
She whispers to my ears, “I missed you so much!”
Tears on my eyes, I lose control of my emotions
the Pictures racing through my mind are of the people I knew
The memories coming back are of the life I had before
I find her place in my heart
She is no stranger, she is my sister!
Take my hand, remind me whom I am
Heal my wounds, rebuild my life
Hold me tight, never let me go again
Who am I? What’s my name? What’s my story?

Wow! This brought goose bumps... me likes a lot...

At the time i was writing this i was confused ,,,wondered if it was better as a short story or a poem.